The world lurches toward nuclear Armageddon. A mysterious evangelist-gone-terrorist with supernatural origins hopes to usher in a biblical apocalypse using stolen atomic warheads. Three stand against him, a seer of good and evil, her academic beau, and a disaffected FBI agent. They and the villain may be emissaries of God, but who, in these times, does God truly favor?
Egypt, 8000 years ago. The gods walk among men as titans,
powerful beings with passions that move mountains, fix stars in the heavens, and master the forces of life and death. Within this world, the evil god Set betrays and murders his brother Osiris,
king of respected Abydos. Set takes all that Osiris once had,
including the queen, Isis, the goddess of life and beauty. Isis escapes Set and bends her powers toward bringing her love back from death. In the course of this quest, kingdoms fall, armies clash, and the balance of power between gods and men is altered forever.
Mankind has wandered in the wilderness of space for four thousand years. If not for the dictatorial Church of the Community of God, the human race would have winked out millennia ago. Community teaches commonality. It demands brotherhood and submission to the authority of God. It feeds us, protects us, and punishes us when we err. And Community is a tower of lies. Miranda St. Billart discovers the lie and seeks to cast it from the shadows of mankind’s notice. Her sister stands with her, as does an order of oppositional monks. They stand against an invincible army led by a stern Church that does not brook the suggestion of heresy. But still they stand, undergoing a great quest, for freedom from oppression lives in truth.
In the mid-twenty-first century, a high-level conspiracy brews to suborn the American democracy to a modern apartheid. White people have long mastered the republic but have now shrunk to only the nation’s largest minority. Some, supported by racist extremist groups and the funds of conservative billionaires, decide that white people made America, white people have ruled America, and now white people will not have America wrested from their grasp. All that stands between them and the at-long-last promise of true equanimity is a renegade faction of the Fourth Estate, a team of journalists who believe that justice cannot be had unless justice is for all.
Mars didn't work out. After all the excitement of the unmanned probes, the first manned mission to the red planet ended in failure. On top of that, redeployment back to Earth failed. Twice. Now the frazzled crew, wounded by creeping misanthropy, squalid living conditions, and the violent death of one of their own, must deal with an emergency no one could have conceived. They have learned that terror is not always a product of the dark, not always a thing that enters from without. Sometimes, you create your own worst monsters.
Bug Hunt is a creepfest, a story that will keep you jumping at shadows at the fringes of your vision, and feeling things touching you you'd rather not imagine.
Frank Keith, sheriff of Conroy County, embarks on the strangest day of his life, and you ride along. Before a background of political upheaval, economic uncertainty, and a slew of disappeared family pets, Keith must puzzle out mysterious speeding super cars, a yard full of gore, and monsters among the crops. Regardless of what comes at him, Keith knows this day defines his whole existence. Is that existence a mystery? Is it a horror? Or is it something far darker: the bizarre, spiraling crash into the thorns of everyday life? Ridealong is Everyman in the instant before awakening. It is heartwarming, frightening, funny and grim. It is life, and the razor's edge of opportunity before life deserts its young. It's also a damned fine cop story.
In Conroy, that strange small town at the fringe of reason, Christmas can't be as simple as presents, nog, and a roaring fire. It's loneliness, fugitive girls, and the ghastly plans of a shadowy corporate monster. Chris Snow, local philosopher and counter boy at a seedy hardware store, joins forces with Frank Keith, now a patrolman for the Conroy Police, to prevent an abomination against human rights grown in their own back forty. Along with perennial screw-up Clarence Mumfry, the two find themselves dragged into a Christmas metaphor from which there is no escape. Ho, ho, ho, pass the flaming nuts, and make room in your reading for the Three Wise Guys.
Christmas is good cheer, snowmen, nog, and family get-togethers. Often, those reunions are strained. How much more tense might the holiday dinner become if you add space travel, time dilation, and alien influences into the mix? Charlese Tilbrenner and Bernie Oldman, heroes of Stephan Michael Loy's upcoming novel Galactic Geographic, are about to find out how twisted reunions can get as Charlese takes her man to meet the family, and Dad. A heartwarming comedy on the true meaning of Christmas, which might very well be survival.
Walter Cheatham is a detective of sorts, a finder of lost things. Today, Christmas, he’s busy finding a kidnapped ten-year-old girl. Time is a factor, for this child is invited to her captors’ Christmas dinner – as the entrée. In a strange and marvelous dystopian world where death and horror are the everyday backsplash of a dull, gray existence, Walter must learn what truly matters when not even life has value. Walter Cheatham’s Cannibal Christmas is an engaging holiday story for science fiction fans everywhere!
Fiona Street is a black ops operative for the National Security Agency, or at least she was until they temporarily transfered her to a new investigative arm of the Special Prosecutor's office. There, Fiona is a confused fish-out-of-water, a mission-oriented soldier thrust into the quagmire of politics. Then the other shoe drops. The special prosecutor wants her to undergo a surgical procedure that would meld her mind to that of an alley cat. Fiona's skills combined with the predatory perspective of the cat would make this already expert operative the most capable and efficient spy on Earth. All it takes is a little experimental brain surgery...
Fiona Street. The singularity is here, and it ain't pretty.